


Stranger By My Own Hand

by BoPeepWithNoSheep



Series: Gently Rise and Softly Call [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Dealing With Loss, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Loss, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), Lucas is Lucretia's stepson and y'all can't tell me different, Lucretia and Maureen were MARRIED and that's the hill I've chosen to die on, this takes place parallel to when Lucretia's missing in Rest for the Wicked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 08:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20043316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoPeepWithNoSheep/pseuds/BoPeepWithNoSheep
Summary: Lucas doesn't want to lose another mother, he just wishes someone would figure that out and let him help.





	Stranger By My Own Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I was challenged by the liches in the wonderland game on the taz fic writers discord to make them love Lucas Miller.

Time and grief is a funny thing, because sometimes Lucas vividly remembers the morning he first woke up and realized he didn’t have a mom anymore—Or rather, he _did_ have a mom but he’d let her slip through his fingers and down into the cracks where even his mind couldn’t conceive of a plan to safely retrieve her. Then other mornings the whole process from discovering her body to burying her is all a blur.

It was a blur then, mostly because Lucretia took care of a lot of it. When he called her on his stone with shaking hands, sobbing so loudly he was sure no one would understand the horror he’d witnessed. Lucretia understood, even if it had been nearly a half a year since her and Maureen’s separation. She always understood Lucas, always set aside the time to understand him.

He’d be hard-pressed to admit it to anyone but a handful of people on most days, but he loves Lucretia. Loves her like he loves Maureen, just as fiercely with just as much loyalty even if he was a little better at seeing Lucretia’s faults than his mom. If someone were to really hold a knife to his neck and ask, he’d admit Lucretia’s just as much his mom as Maureen. She’d been around since he was a kid, part of his life for most of the portion that matters. He’d never called her Director or Lucretia as a kid, she’d just been Mom.

He can’t really remember the reason that stopped.

Lucretia was a constant figure in his life, whether their orbits brought them close or allowed them to drift. When he wakes up one morning, drowsy from an all-nighter over a robot he needs to fix before the coming school week he just barely manages to answer before it goes to voicemail. He never expects to be the one on the receiving end of a call like this.

“Hello? Miller residence, Lucas speaking.”

There’s a pause on the line, for a brief moment Lucas wonders if this is a prank call. He heaves a sigh and opens his mouth to ask how exactly his mystery caller got this number—because if Taako is giving Lucas’s personal stone number out to his students _again_ there will be _words._

But a familiar voice, small and unusually quavering speaks instead,

“Professor Miller, it’s Angus and--um--well, I thought this would be better with me calling you instead of Magnus or Killian.”

In a moment, Lucas goes from groggy to wide awake. His blood runs cold and somewhere behind him a timer goes off, he ignores it. There’s really only a few reasons Killian would possibly be calling him and none of them are good.

He steels himself to ask, “I-Is M—Is _Lucretia_ alright?”

There’s a pause on the line and even though he can still hear Angus’ breathing the boy is silent but for the hitch of distressed air. In that moment of silence, Lucas’ mind crashes wholesale into terrible memories. Memories of hands made of cracked crystal, of a face so peaceful in spite of the horror around them, he thinks of his mother and how—Oh gods, this is happening again.

Lucas can’t breath until Angus speaks, soft and hesitant, “We—We don’t know, sir.”

In through his nose, out through his mouth, just like Lucretia taught him. He lets the stone of farspeech thud against his chest, hanging like a noose around his neck as he prepares himself for whatever terrible news is coming. Lucas grabs a nearby notebook, knocking all of his current machinery and wires from his desk. He grabs the pen from behind his ear and another from the cup on his desk. In spite of his talented teacher he’s not as good as Lucretia is, really his right hand is barely legible but he doesn’t write to be read by anyone other than himself.

He writes because he has too much rolling around in that big brain of his and sometimes if he writes everything out of it, it’ll calm down for just a few minutes. That’s how Lucretia used to calm herself down and Lucas always loved to glance over her shoulder and read the day’s events. He never felt like he was trespassing because Lucretia had told him squarely once if she didn’t want him to read something she wouldn’t be writing it out in the open.

Lucas, thirteen years old and perhaps even more confident in his cleverness than he is today, had told her if she didn’t want people to read what she wrote then she should be like Mom and just have terrible handwriting.

For just a second, a microsecond of a beat, he lets himself breath just like Lucretia would tell him if she were here. Then he steals his heart, shuts down his panic in a little box in his chest just like Lucretia would do if she were here.

"Okay, tell me everything."

* * *

He gets a lot of _looks_ when he's up on the moonbase. He ignores them, mostly because he’s not here to be ogled at or to listen to gossip whispered behind people’s hands. It’s a little awkward checking in with Carey and Killian, to say the least. Still, he gets a dumb little visitor’s sticker he’s never seen anyone else on the moonbase use but he’s put money on it being a tracker of some sort as if Lucas is gonna break into Lucretia’s room and go steal her staff still stored there.

He was never thralled, though he doesn’t think anyone really believes him when he tells them that. It’s fine, they don’t trust him now and they barely trusted him before anyway. People only tolerated him because he was the Director’s stepson. Given the inoculation of a full member but with no bracer to monitor if he went rogue.

He hadn’t really considered what he was doing to be going rogue at the time. Lucretia would have been happy if he succeeded, would maybe be a little pissed about his methods but Lucas was too old to be grounded. He hadn’t really feared the consequences when he imagined Lucretia’s anger melting away when he reunited his moms, both happy and healthy.

Things hadn’t worked out that way, and mostly that’s his only regret. Mostly.

He doesn’t think about what faking his death did to Lucretia, doesn’t think about how much she would have cried to lose her wife and her stepson all in the span of about six months, all to a relic she helped create. If he’d just _known_ that, if Lucretia had told him how scary it was to her maybe he wouldn’t have hidden it. He still would have tried to use it, but he would have gone to her for help sooner.

It’s too late now, but if she gets back—when they get her back he swears he’s going to apologize. He’s going to stop burying himself in work and actually visit. He’s going to work through his shit so he can look her in the eye and call her Mom again.

He has all of these thoughts while wandering aimlessly around the moonbase. He’s been turned away from Lucretia’s office so many times at this point he’s lost count. If it were just Killian and Carey warding him away he’d probably have just cast knock and gone in himself to inspect the damage but the problem is, that it isn’t just Killian and Carey. After a near screaming match with the two so-called co-directors, it had been Brad to pull Lucas aside and quietly caution him against the idea of going in.

Brad who doesn’t hate him, who genuinely cares for the emotional wellbeing of everyone around him.

Lucas still wants to go in, he needs to see it so his brain stops painting a worse picture. Needs to know it’s not a shattered room covered in crystal with his mother dying in the center of the chaos—because that’s what’s been playing in his head for almost three days now. Maureen and Lucretia, together in death, writhing in agony and calling out for the broken planes.

He decides to go to one of his old hidey holes, nobody uses Maureen’s old office except for Lucretia. Since she’s missing—_not here_ it’ll be empty enough that maybe Lucas can cast silence and just _scream_ for a few minutes.

Except it isn’t empty, Angus is there.

Angus is hiding, just like Lucas had planned and it almost makes him close the door as quietly as possible. Except he hears a quiet sob and that newfound part of himself, the teacher in him, can’t leave his student crying alone in a dark room under a desk.

He takes a step into the room, telegraphs his movements so he doesn’t startle the kid, “Hey, Angus? Do you want me to turn the light on for you?”

He doesn’t bother asking the boy if he’s alright, it’s more than obvious that isn’t the case. Lucas thinks back to when he first lost his mom and all the questions he absolutely hated. He isn’t going to subject Angus to those. Well-meaning as people try to be, they’re just useless questions. Useless questions and baseless reassurances do nothing to temper grief, what Angus needs is understanding and support.

Even if he doesn’t want to talk, even if the next thing he asks is for Lucas to get out and leave him alone that’s fine. So long as Lucas can do something, anything tangible to let Angus know he’s not alone.

“I—I didn’t _mean_ to sit in the dark.” the tiny hoarse voice pipes up. His tone is defensive but Lucas doesn’t feed into that, just nods in reply.

“Yeah, all the lights in this room are biolocked, mom got sick of Brad always turning off the power in here to try and get her to actually sleep.”

“Y-Your mom?”

“Yeah, this used to be her office,” he gestures towards a large bookshelf in the corner, “If you pull out the Fantasy Emily Dickinson in with all the math books it open up to her secret moonbase lab.”

Angus actually pokes his head out from his hiding spot under his mom’s old desk. He’s not wearing his glasses, which makes sense. Lucas always takes his off too, getting them all fogged up and gross is annoying. He squints over at the bookcase, presumably for the seam to indicate such a hidden passageway. He won’t find it, Lucretia made this one with more magic than tech, just like Mom made the secret passageway into Lucretia’s personal quarters from her office.

Still, the familiar focused look on his face is a relief if Lucas ignores the tear stains.

“I can—I didn’t mean to intrude.” Angus starts but doesn’t actually get up to leave. If anything, he shrinks back farther under the desk, like he thinks Lucas is going to yell at him for being here. Lucas tries very hard not to frown, he doesn’t want Angus to misinterpret his expression but his eyebrows do scrunch rather impressively.

“You don’t need to go, I’m pretty sure we both ended up here for mostly the same reason.”

He waits for a few minutes, just standing and waiting to see if Angus will ask him to go when Angus settles back under the desk a little more relaxed than he’d been when Lucas came in he can’t help but smile. The older man slowly makes his way over, still broadcasting his every move while carefully watching Angus for any type of reaction. When he doesn’t seem to object Lucas carefully pulls the chair out from his mom’s desk, he doesn’t mean to really disturb Angus but it’s the only place to sit.

Besides that, it still smells like Mom and that’s what he needs right now.

They sit in silence for a while before Angus pokes his head out again, “Hey, Professor Miller?”

“You can just call me Lucas if you want, we aren’t at school right now.”

“Mister Lucas you’re, um, you’re handling everything pretty well.”

Lucas actually laughs, it’s less nasally and a little tinnier than his normal laugh, it might be just a little bit hysterical, “Oh, _absolutely_ not, I cried in front of Brad, maybe screamed at Killian and Carey, and I honestly came in here to cast silence and scream until I lost my voice.”

Angus stares at him wide-eyed, squints then puts his glasses back on to get a better look at his face. Lucas knows what he looks like, completely exhausted and about three wrong words away from a breakdown. It’s a little easier to hide behind the beard, it’s part of the reason he grew it besides the whole having to pretend he was dead for a few months. It doesn’t hide his eyes, the deep bags and the slight puffiness from a hard cry. He might have some blood vessels burst, he feels like he got punched in the face.

The little boy seems completely taken aback by Lucas’ honesty but really, Lucas is tired of keeping everything bottled up. He’s making sure he reigns some of it in, just because this isn’t Angus’ problem but he’s not going to lie to the kid. If he pretends he’s not falling apart then someone as smart as Angus is bound to see through it anyway.

“Lots of people keep telling me I have to be brave, I-I don’t _feel_ very brave.” That’s something that Lucas is willing to argue about because Angus is probably the bravest kid he knows but that’s for a later time. Right now it’s not the kind of reassurance he needs, though Angus’ expression makes Lucas want to go find whoever told him that and give them a piece of his mind.

Lucas almost scowls, instead, he focuses on breathing while leaning back into Mom’s chair. He can’t help but sigh, “Yeah, I get that. You don’t have to be though if you don’t feel like it.”

Angus slams one hand against the ground and Lucas can see tears leaking from the boy’s eyes, “But—But everyone is expecting me to help! I _have_ to find her, I’m the only one qualified!”

Lucas nods, because gods he gets that so much, more than Angus probably realizes, “Yeah, you’re the world’s greatest detective but you’re also—”

Angus lets out a frustrated growl, “A _kid_, I know.”

At that Lucas just tilts his head, nodding again, “Well yeah, but you’re not anyone’s kid, you’re _Lucretia’s_ kid. Who else is more qualified to lead the mission to find her?”

He ignores the little sting behind his own eyes when he says that, because no one will let _him_ help—But Angus never hid a relic, Angus never let his mom die. Maybe if Lucas helps it’ll just end up like the last time he tried to help and he just can’t live with himself if he gets his other mom killed too.

“Wh-What?” Angus sniffles, his lip trembling dangerously. Lucas reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little embroidered handkerchief. He did it himself when he was a kid and he’d been bored enough to pick up a new hobby. There’s nothing special about it, just a clumsy little picture of Upsy right in the corner but he’d been incredibly proud of it once.

He hands it over to the younger boy--To Lucretia’s other son, who quickly makes to wipe his face in spite of new tears that quickly replace any he’s able to wipe away.

“I know this is hard Angus, believe me I _know_ it’s unbelievably hard and it feels like the whole world is looking at you to fix it—But you’re _not_ alone, you’ve got a whole team working with you. All of us working together? We’re gonna get her back.”

Angus hiccups, he’s a bit too out of it to really reply so Lucas doesn’t force him. Instead, he hoists the kid up beside him so he’s not on the ground anymore. At least that way, even if they’re both squished into the same office chair, it’s marginally more comfortable than cold tile.

“Don’t let anyone tell you that you’ve gotta be strong for her okay? It’s not _fair_ to tell people that when they’re upset.”

He remembers everyone insisting over and over again, how he just needed to be strong and how Maureen wouldn’t want him to cry. It was all bullshit, Maureen encouraged him to cry when he needed to and losing your mom is a damn good reason to cry. Lucas isn’t going to abide by anyone trying to pull that shit on a _literal_ child.

They end up falling asleep, just leaning on each other while they both take the time to just calm down for the first time in days. There’s still the underlying tension of stress, there’s no way to get rid of it until they get Lucretia back but it lulls for just a few hours.

* * *

He’s sitting outside Lucretia’s office again. They won’t let him in _again_. He’s thinking about finding out whether he can still fit through the air vents. He only decides against it in case Angus uses them as a hideaway the same way he did as a kid. He’s almost asleep, leaning against the wall thinking about how Lucretia had always been so amazed by his and mom’s ability to just fall asleep anywhere.

He doesn’t expect someone to clear their throat above him. He startles so badly he falls over and stares up from his new place on the floor in mild confusion, “Oh, um, hi Davenport.”

“Professor Miller.” His eyes are hard and Lucas nearly flinches because—Cool, this is fine, another family member he apparently doesn’t have anymore. His eyes burn as he stumbles over his own tongue trying desperately to string two words together. He has to justify why he’s here again, outside Lucretia’s office when literally everyone’s turned him away except Angus.

Lucas likes Angus a lot, he’s a good kid and a good student and he’s realizing that they’re _maybe_ sort of brothers and that’s just absolutely wild and maybe the only good thing that’s happened to him in the last three days. Maureen would have loved him, Lucretia does love him, and he’s worming his way into Lucas’ heart too.

In contrast, Lucas really has no fucking clue where he stands with Davenport anymore.

“Oh—uh are we being professional now? Should I call you Captain? I’m not trying to be disrespectful or anything, it’s just I’ve been saying Davenport since I was like, twelve. I mean, that’s not an excuse, I can do better it’s just uhh right now is really—“

Davenport cuts off Lucas’s rambling by gently taking one wrist in hand and carefully pulling Lucas back up into a sitting position. The gnome’s gaze is still incredibly focused but it’s softer now, a little more like the Davenport Lucas remembers, “Things are pretty stressful right now, Lucas.”

Lucas isn’t sure why it’s now that he loses it— Maybe it’s because he’s had to be collected for Angus and that he’s too prideful to cry in front of Carey or Killian since they’d probably laugh at him, but he’s known Davenport since he was a kid. Davenport was there when his moms got married—Davenport had been at mom’s _funeral_.

He doesn’t want to see Davenport at another one, his normal joviality carelessly stolen away by death.

So suddenly he can’t breathe and there are tears streaming down his face. When he was a kid he sometimes used to hide in the vents to have anxiety attacks. Davenport could practically sense it back then, but he’d been the one to show Lucas all the cool hidden spaces around the moonbase when he’d needed to get away from all the people or even his moms. It was always midway through an attack before Lucas could end up hurting himself with clumsy climbing that Davenport would appear at his side. Sometimes with a book, sometimes with something for them to tinker on, and always with some water and a snack.

He _misses_ that.

Lucas has his anxiety attacks alone now. He always figured that was what adulthood was, living away from the comforts of home and crying in your own bed at 2am instead of crawling into your parents. Adulthood pretty much sucks, but he’s probably bad at it by default anyway. He’s bad at a lot of things, mostly only good at science. Not that he’ll admit that out loud, it’s one thing for him to hate himself, other people don’t get to hate him over nothing.

Only Lucas gets to hate himself over nothing.

Davenport sits with him until it passes, even though he’s not an anxious teenager anymore, he’s a grown ass man who probably has post-traumatic stress disorder from watching his mom die, bringing her back, dying himself, getting brought back himself, then watching his mom die _again_. He’s probably never going to actually get that addressed, instead, he’ll do the easy thing and just have a breakdown in the middle of a hallway where anyone could see. He almost laughs in the full throughs of panic in spite of everything because he truly is his mother’s son right now. He remembers some truly spectacular meltdowns on Lucretia’s part back before the BoB had formed and she’d pulled on the Director’s mantle.

Davenport doesn’t say much and neither does Lucas because Lucas is an _ugly_ crier and can’t say much that won’t get drowned out in hiccups. Besides that, this Davenport isn’t _quite_ the one who he grew up with. He’s more serious for one, though Lucas wagers a guess that the goofball uncle he remembers is in there somewhere.

He wants to ask about that—if it would be okay to call him uncle Davenport again—but he’s mad at Mom. Lucas was mad at Lucretia for a little while too, but their reasons are different enough that he doesn’t think Davenport would really appreciate any sort of perspective he can offer.

It would make sense if Davenport wants a clean break from Lucretia and everything associated with her. Lucas is her son before he’s Davenport’s weird makeshift nephew so it wouldn’t surprise him if cutting out Lucretia involves cutting him out.

It’s sad, it _makes_ Lucas sad is a more correct way of putting it. He’s been trying to contextualize his feelings lately. Gods know he won’t go to therapy like his moms might have wanted but he’s willing to absorb a dozen psychology books in his spare time. Putting his feelings into context is important. Figuring out why he feels the way he does is important but most of all keeping himself from allowing his feelings to manifest in a self-destructive fashion.

So if he’s upset that the relationship he thought he had is gone, he isn’t really upset _at_ Davenport about it. It’s just another thing dead and gone along with mom but—but not with Lucretia.

They’ll get her back, one way or another even if he has to break a few celestial rules to make it happen.

* * *

Frankly speaking, Lucas had thought he’d given up necromancy as a craft after the disaster in his floating lab. Granted, it wasn’t actually his work that was a disaster his last robot would have been flawless if not for the interference of the stone. Hell, even Noelle and the other robots had been fully functioning but flawed enough that he couldn’t bring Mom back until the process was perfect. Noelle had been so close, her mind in tact all but for her memory and well—Lucas had considered it.

If his mom was alive it wouldn’t really matter if she remembered him, bringing her back wasn’t for him. Well, it was but it was also just for _her_. Noelle still seemed to be herself even without her memories, still had the capacity for happiness and kindness. Lucas would have given that to his mom if he hadn’t had any other choice—A blank slate was better than nothing.

But then the other robots had worked, then he’d had _hope_.

It didn’t last long, his mom came out of the astral plane just as broken as she went into it--Her body was perfect, he’d made sure of it, but he couldn’t do anything for her tattered soul and shattered mind.

Lucas watched his mom die twice, screaming in agony the first time and quietly resigned the second time. Like hell, he’s going to lose a mother a third gods damned time and he’ll spit directly in the Raven Queen’s face if she tries to take one more parent from him.

**Author's Note:**

> As I have said previously, Lucas Miller has three moms Maureen, Lucretia, and also me. I love him so much and like, I absolutely get people who don't like his character because he's a genuine garbage man. HOWEVER, I take it as a personal challenge to take this garbage boy whose grief I identified with so goddamn strongly and present him in a fashion that will make you FEEL something even if you still don't LIKE him. That's sort of the important part to me, I guess. 
> 
> I've had thoughts about Lucas and Angus as brothers for a while now but not gotten a chance to really articulate them so here's my first shot at it. The Lucas and Dav scene actually came out of nowhere, just sort of me trying to figure out who could comfort Lucas up on the moonbase without having to put that pressure on Angus who is very much in need of comfort himself.


End file.
